


MASTER AND SLAVE

by BellaGracie



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Age-Gap Everlark, F/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaGracie/pseuds/BellaGracie
Summary: Katniss and Peeta in the era of Classical Rome. Katniss is a slave in Peeta's household. There is a 10-year gap in age between them.Slow burn. Very slow burn.
Relationships: Clove/Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 76
Kudos: 71





	1. KATNISS THE SLAVE

The last time Clove visited him at his villa on the shores of Lake Como, she had brought him a present: a child of twelve, the daughter of a man sentenced to death, who had almost accompanied her father to the gallows.

"She is -- a child!" Peeta sputtered. "Why was she nearly executed?"

"She was his assistant in thievery, Peeta. And no one wished to assume responsibility for her. Her mother died of the fever, and she would be on the streets. At the last moment, I was moved by pity. I thought: she is not bad-looking. She could be useful for something. The Devotees wanted to shut her away in a temple with the Vestal Virgins but I thought, you usually complain of being lonely, here is someone I am giving to you as a present. Gods! Look at her; she has not stopped crying once since she awoke. Love her well; you can do that, can't you, husband? She is all alone in the world. They say she has a cousin but no one knows where he is. For all she knows, he is dead. She says she has not seen him since he was sold as a slave to some Prince or Other. Sicily, I think she mentioned. Well, what do you say husband? Would you like to keep her?"

Peeta grit his teeth. "Does she have a name?"

"Indeed she does!" Clove said. "Katniss."

Peeta said, "It is a strange name."

"It fits! A strange name for a strange girl!" Clove tittered.

"Will you stay for dinner?" Peeta asked.

"Oh, no! I must return to Rome at once. Caesar awaits me."

"Caesar! Is he your new lover?" Peeta asked.

Clove merely gave him a coy smile.

So Katniss came to live in Peeta's household, in a villa by a lake. She was clothed, provided for, and cherished, for Clove and Peeta had no children of their own. She grew up a sullen, distrustful girl. She talked little or not at all; most of the time she hid behind doors, and she was unable to hold a plate in her hands without letting it drop. Whenever she could, she escaped to the stables and curled up on the straw beside the master's horses and when she came back she brought with her a stench of the stables that Peeta could smell even from 10 feet away. He did not go near her, but he was not a cruel man. He realized it was a waste of time to punish her. In her terrified gaze, always on the alert, he recognized something of his own childhood moods. So he left her alone, much to the annoyance of his old servant, Mags, who had been his nursemaid and had known him since infancy. He made sure Mags or one of the other servants took charge of her.

Eventually, a Senator, who used to visit Peeta frequently, took notice of her. Katniss was then about 14. The man's name was Brutus, and he had a rather unsavory reputation.

"How much do you want for her?" Brutus asked. "Name your price."


	2. THE MASTER

It was almost noon. The light was bright, glancing off the lake. The villa was set on a slight promontory. On the sloping hillsides were almond and lemon and olive trees.

Peeta and Brutus were standing by the long pool that traversed the length of the garden. Statues lined the pool: a Janus, a Neptune, a Venus, and six enormous cupids armed with bows and arrows. At the far end of the pool, standing in isolated splendor, was a marble bust of the Mistress, Clove.

Though a man of simple taste, Peeta was incredibly rich. Which was why he felt comfortable telling a Roman Senator, "She is not for sale."

The wind ruffled through Katniss's hair. She was watching the Master and his guest from a safe distance. Neither of them saw her.

In her head rang a song she had listened to Mags sing, often:

> Out of the trees the young Master comes;
> 
> A stalwart man, proud of mien;
> 
> His tunic is white as snow;
> 
> On his head, a wreath of grape leaves.

Brutus raised an eyebrow. "Oh? She is -- ? You and she are -- ? Pardon me, I did not know."

"No," Peeta said quietly. "But she was a present from my wife. She is in my household, under my protection, for as long as my wife wishes her to be."

Brutus said nothing. After a few moments, he smiled. How strange this Peeta was! Living alone in his villa like this. While his wife, as the world knew, was busy having her affairs in Rome. It was even said she had produced a child -- of course, unknown to Peeta. He would have repudiated her, otherwise. A man's patience can only go so far.

Yet, he liked to visit Peeta, for Brutus liked to associate with people of great wealth.

Katniss saw Brutus and Peeta part, abruptly. There was no warm embrace; Brutus looked unhappy. The Master did not follow the guest to the entrance portico, which was not his usual practice. Instead, he remained looking out at the lake. After a long moment, he turned.

There was something uncanny about the way he turned his head in her direction, as if he knew he was being watched. He almost saw her; it was a good thing Katniss ducked her head. Then, he turned his gaze back towards the lake. Katniss remained watching, spellbound by his beauty.


	3. WILD

When Katniss first entered Peeta's household, she was wild, and startled at the slightest sound. The first thing Peeta did was instruct Mags to do a thorough examination, to make sure she was not suffering from a physical malady or bearing a contagion that might infect the other slaves. When Mags approached her, Katniss spit and kicked, and it took two young slaves to hold her tightly by the arms so Mags could safely approach. The old woman then pried open her mouth and, with thrusting, fat fingers, probed her gums, her teeth, her tongue, and her beautifully healthy palate. Katniss gagged, and Mags satisfied herself, after further examination of other parts of the girl, that she was healthy. Once the examination was finished, Mags ordered Katniss to be released. The girl collapsed to the floor, sobbing. "Lavinia!" Mags called to a comely young slave. "Wash her. She stinks."

Mags made report to Peeta: "She has a beautiful pink palate, and beautiful strong teeth, two lovely lips. Down there she is functional, too. She will be quite suitable for breeding, perhaps in a year. When she has a little more meat on her bones. Her hips are a little narrow, but she can bear children."

Katniss and her father had been living by their wits in the alleys of Rome for a long time. In Peeta's household, she did learn, and she was quick, too. It only came out later that she had been listening to Mags, especially those songs Mags liked to croon to herself late at night, when she was trying to sooth herself into sleep. And she had a lovely voice. In fact, people often asked her to sing. But she only sang when she thought no one was about. Mostly, Peeta left her alone. She ran, when she could, and she spent hours in the kitchen, watching the cooks at work. She eventually made friends with a young slave, Rue. And more than once, the others saw her staring at Lavinia, the most beautiful of the female slaves, and the one favored by the Master.


	4. MASTER AND MISTRESS

It was an evening in August. Clove was back on one of her infrequent visits. Master and Mistress were seated beneath the shadow of a portico at a round table of woven cane.

Clove's hands moved daintily to an earthenware cup filled to the brim with goat's milk, first impatiently chasing a wasp from the edge of her cup. The wasp, undeterred, moved to a roll of bread. At this point, one of the slaves stepped forward with a fan to chase off the intrusive wasp.

It was the third week of Clove's visit, her third week of staring with a complete lack of interest at her husband's property. All these years, and she still had not learned to distinguish fields of wheat from fields of oats, fields of clover from those left to pasture. All she cared about was having good, fresh cheese every day, and Peeta's shepherds were so well-trained that the best cheese was always available. His peasant guards, too, were quite above approach. None, even the younger ones, could be tempted into bed with her. In Clove's own family, her cruel brothers twisted the neck of any person, peasant or slave, who displeased them. That was not the case on Peeta's estate.

During the day, Peeta was mostly away, making the rounds of his property. But when his wife was home, he would spend entire days with her on their wide bed, and the two would only emerge in the evening for supper.

"I grow fat here, husband," Clove said. "I must soon back to Rome." She watched with a critical eye as Katniss emerged in the garden, ineffectually swatting at flies with a large net.

"How wild she still is," Clove said, and laughed.

"Who?" Peeta said. He turned his head, following the direction of Clove's gaze. He saw Katniss and said, "Leave her alone. She is a child."

"She has had her monthly blood, though," Clove said. "In the village, girls her age are married off."

He wondered how his wife had found out. It had happened only a few months earlier.

He remembered that day clearly: Katniss lay curled up on her straw pallet, a cloth over her head, clutching her stomach and yowling. She refused to get up. Finally, Mags talked to her. "You are a woman now," Mags said. Katniss yowled even louder. They left her alone that day.

Towards evening, the Master had come to the servant's quarters and taken a look at her. "What's the matter with her?" he asked Mags, frowning.

"You would think we were killing her!" Mags said. She indicated the bloody rag that had been pushed between Katniss's legs. The Master's face was unreadable.

Now, something of that boxed-in look was on the Master's face as his wife scrutinized him. "I wonder sometimes what is going on in that calm head of yours," she said. "You always keep your thoughts closed and well locked."

Peeta laughed. "My thoughts are dull, wife. You would not like to listen to me talk about grain prices and taxes."

Clove turned her gaze back to Katniss. She observed how very thin the girl's bare legs were.

"Doesn't she eat?" she wondered aloud.

"She eats," Peeta said, and there was something in his tone that told Clove he was ready to move on to another subject.


	5. WHEN IN ROME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ancient Romans thought nothing of group sex, and had a reputation for lasciviousness and orgies. Clove's behavior would not be considered unusual.

Clove asked Peeta time and time again to participate in Rome life, but every time he went, he wanted just as soon as he arrived to return to the country. He hated the squalor of Rome life: the crowding, the low houses jammed on top of each other, the easy promiscuity, the mud. He much preferred walking on narrow paths through tall grass, or riding across the fields on his favorite bay mare. His wife and he were so different: she hated the country. She wanted to spend all her life in the seven hills, and moreover she loved to play little psychological games.

Her friends thought Peeta a fool; Clove should divorce him, everyone said. They had agreed on this compromise: once a year, he would go to Rome. Then, he would allow Clove to drag him to banquets, (And always, in his mind: My beloved is like a roe or a young hart.) usually held in some grand villa facing the Tiber, and what a crush of palanquins and sedan-chairs crowded the narrow streets! Then there was the theater, and of course spectacles at the Coliseum.

The private dinners Peeta hated most of all. Here women and men, married or no, entwined body to body while consuming food. He was embarrassed when approached by several women, who hinted that they would be glad to receive him alone -- that is, without his wife. Peeta was still in his 20s, his body strong and fit from years of real work in the country, and women swooned to have him. But he never accepted these sorts of invitations. He did not wish to bed any of these women, with their hungry, glittering eyes and greedy fingers. There was someone, but she had thick, dark hair almost to her waist, and a slender neck, and thin legs, and his wife was always after him to have the girl mated, so that she could start producing children, but Peeta somehow wanted to shield her from that fate. She was 15 now, and good for work. Good also to look at, as the various guests to Peeta's estate had discovered . . .

This was how Peeta had met the Senator Brutus. Brutus had filled his Villa Palagonia with fanciful statuary: men with the heads of goats, women who were half-monkeys, elephants playing the flute, serpents twisted around columns, dragons and hunchbacks. On the walls of each room were murals depicting donkeys, sparrows, foxes, snakes, scorpions, lizards and spiders. The Senator went about Rome in a carriage emblazoned with gold.

Clove described the senator as "ugly," and Peeta could find no fault with that description. They were polite with each other, even after Peeta refused to sell Katniss. Brutus was said to have incurred astronomical debt, perhaps one day he would approach Peeta for a loan. Peeta had always suspected he would offer a price far too low for Katniss, if rumors of Brutus's debts were to be believed, and so he felt it was better to cut the Senator off at the pass instead of waiting for him to make an offer so low that Peeta would have to refuse it.


	6. BRUTUS

Clove nibbled at some grapes that were part of an enormous fruit cornucopia sent by an admirer: figs, pears and grapes had been arranged in a fantastic tower of silver filigree. The grapes were round and juicy, the biggest grapes she had ever seen. Then her mind went over the previous night's combat at the Coliseum, when a gigantic brute with thick black hair all over his arms and chest crushed the heads of two slaves as easily as if they were eggs. The crowd, disappointed that it had happened so quickly, began to boo raucously. Peeta was with her, but he left after that bout. Clove stayed because Senator Brutus promised to see her home.

She woke in mid-afternoon, and found that her husband was out. She had spent the rest of the day in planning how she would tell him what she wanted for her birthday.

A servant came and announced that she had a visitor.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Senator Brutus."

"Show him in," she said.

She had just seen him a few hours earlier. Such a deadly bore! She would see him again that night, in the palazzo of Caesar. What was a few hours?

When the servant showed him in, Clove asked, "What is the purpose of this visit, Senator? We are meeting tonight. Unless -- have I missed something?"

"The price of sugar has gone up by five grani a sack, lard by twenty, my farms prosper by the favor of Jupiter and -- can there be any better reason?" Brutus said.

"I must commend you for the dinner you threw last week. Why, there must have been at least a thousand candles! Where, pray, do you find all the money?"

Brutus barked out a laugh and came closer. At first, she recoiled, wondering what this was all about, and not really relishing Brutus's embraces, but he quickly dispelled her fears by whispering into her ear: "I have been to your villa in the country, a moon ago. Your husband keeps a slave girl . . . "

Clove pushed at Brutus's shoulder and stepped back, adjusting her wrap more firmly around her shoulders. "If you want to discuss a slave, it is my husband you should be speaking to, not me."

"I have discussed it with him," Brutus said. "And he refused to sell her to me."

Clove looked intently at Brutus. "Why are you telling me this? Do you think I can do anything to change my husband's mind?"

"He did say that she was a present from you. That was the reason he gave for not selling her."

Clove frowned. Katniss. A little root of jealousy twined itself around Clove's soul. Peeta formed no attachments to slaves. His high virtue had been the subject of much gossip in Rome. But had she been wrong about him? The girl was so young, little more than a child . . .

"Was that the red-headed woman . . . " Clove said, pretending not to remember. "No!" Brutus said. "I have had that one, many times. This one was a dark, small girl. Thin, but with the most magnificent silver eyes . . . "

Clove gave a light laugh. "Oh, Brutus, how silly you are. As if there are not any number of women here in Rome that may be had for the asking. Why focus on ONE silly slave girl. I do not know of whom you speak."

"I know it is against my nature, dear Clove," Brutus said. "You know me far too well. But, by the gods, I want that slave. I have thought of little else since your husband refused me."

Clove looked at Brutus with narrowed eyes. "What were you doing at our villa? Heavens, there is little to occupy a man of your nature. Is it not -- dull?"

"To speak plain, I do envy your husband, Clove," Brutus said. "He is secure in his little Paradise, with his fruit orchards and his vast stores of wine. I often wonder how a man can shut himself off from the world. But, seeing that slave there, I can imagine he has everything he wants, close at hand."

Clove's face flamed. She knew when she was being insulted. To think Peeta would lose himself in the arms of a slave! She was too young, surely? Was she thirteen? Fourteen? Brutus laughed, watching Clove's face and knowing his words had had the right effect.

"I have given his name to Caesar," Brutus continued.

"For what?" Clove said, sitting upright.

"For Roman Senator, of course. He has much land, much wealth. Why keep that all to himself? We must have him in Rome, so that he may use some of that wealth for the uplifting of the masses."

"He will never be a Senator," Clove said. "He hates that life."

"But if he were commanded? By Caesar? He cannot refuse."


	7. THE ROMAN BATHS

Peeta leaned his head back and sighed. He was in the warm water of the baths. Around him, shapes moved in the dim gloom: men padding naked around the pool's edge, or seated on low benches, chatting.

_"Did you hear? Agrippa has an illness, he goes daily to the Temple but it does no good, his heart is bleeding . . . "_

_"Aurelius's young wife threw herself into the Tiber because he abandoned her for her mother . . . "_

There was some laughter about Lucilla, Caesar's aunt, who was also his wife. Desperate to give him a child, Lucilla had taken to inviting a slave girl to their bed every night. So far, it had not worked.

Peeta listened to the talk with eyes closed, head against the lip of the pool.

"When cornered, the leopard mother is capable of eating her own cubs," someone said.

Peeta's eyes snapped open. He peered into the gloom, but the speaker was only a shadow.

Peeta's family was an old one. Their family crest was il leopardi, the leopard. According to ancient legend, the leopard was the only creature who emitted a certain scent. It was this powerful scent that it used to lure and overpower its victims. And in a family as ancient as his, there were of course many victims.

When he was a young boy, the villa as it was now did not exist. In its place was a decrepit palace, many of whose old rooms had been abandoned and ignored, used as storage spaces instead of living spaces. Most of the life of the family took place in the hunting lodge, built by his grandfather, over a century ago. Peeta used to go all the way from the palace to a grove of olive trees by following a goat track. Neither did the nearby village of Panem exist; there was only the servants' quarters attached to the Palace; stables; and a small temple which Peeta's father had built. Every year, however, the family added new stables, new store rooms, and more temples. A guest house was built for friends and relations visiting from Rome and other places. Sometime in his youth, the village of Bagheria, which housed the few freed slaves, and their offspring, was born. Eventually it housed a potter, who made urns for Peeta's household. And a muralist, who filled Peeta's villa with stunning mosaics.

"Is this Peeta?" said a voice, much closer.

Peeta looked up. The speaker was an old man. Peeta knew him.

"Proximo," he said, with a smile.

Carefully, Proximo lowered himself into the pool. When he was immersed to his neck, he gave a sigh of satisfaction. Then his bright, old eyes stared straight into Peeta's.

"I have heard something about you," he said, softly.

"About me? Are you sure it was about me, and not my wife?" Peeta responded.

Proximo chuckled. "Oh, this talk was certainly about you. They say Caesar wishes to make you a Senator."

Peeta closed his eyes and leaned his head back once more. "No," he said softly. "Not yet, anyway."

"Who is she?" Proximo asked. "The woman you stay in the country for."

"Is that what people say? That I stay in the country for a woman?"

"Or a man. Either way. You know we do not discriminate, we are Romans. Pleasure above all."

Peeta remained silent.

"Well," Proximo said. "That answers one question, at any rate. What will you do if Caesar makes you an offer? Will you consider it?"

"I will consider it. _If_ he makes an offer."


	8. THE SENATOR MAKES A MOVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Brutus stalks Katniss.
> 
> Well, technically not stalking, since he's a Senator and she's just a slave.

He missed the country. He missed earth and foliage and the smell of the sun beating down on his warmed skin. The water tasted different there, and in the morning, he woke to the sound of birds outside his window.

That night, after returning from the dinner, Clove said, "Brutus would like to visit. He and I will leave Rome together tomorrow."

Peeta frowned. "Can you not wait until I finish my business here? I am summoned to meet with Caesar tomorrow."

Clove gave him an indulgent smile. "Yes, I know. But you may be detained long, and I cannot wait. I shall keep the Senator entertained in your absence, dear husband." She pressed a fond kiss on his lips, but Peeta did not respond. He was disturbed at the prospect of Clove and Brutus . . . there . . . in his villa.

"He cannot take Katniss. I forbid it," Peeta said, suddenly. His voice was firm.

Clove raised an eyebrow. "And why not? She is a slave. Slaves exist only to satisfy the needs of their masters."

"Wife, do not test me on this," Peeta said. "I forbid it, and that should be enough."

"But why, Peeta? I do not understand," Clove said, looking searchingly into her husband's face. "Is she still a virgin? If she is, what are you saving her for?"

"I shall not have him debauch her," Peeta said. Even as the words parted from his lips, his mind thought, _Why not?_ Peeta continued, "She is not to be treated as a plaything for Brutus's degenerate amusements."

Clove's silvery laugh rang out. "Have you had use of her already, Peeta? My friends think you have."

"I have not had use of her, and neither will Brutus," Peeta insisted, clenching his fists. "She is a child, under my protection . . . "

Clove bridled. "And how old was I when I became your wife? Do you remember, husband? I was but fifteen. You seemed to have no qualms then about depriving me of my virginity."

Peeta bit his lip. Clove was correct. She had come to him as a fifteen-year-old virgin. He had not been able to resist taking her, though a part of him had regretted that she took so little pleasure from their joining. Later, matters had improved, and now they enjoyed bedding each other, and other people if the other were not available.

Peeta took his wife's hand. "I was but a callous boy at the time of our wedding. A boy rendered eager by his wife's loveliness. I have not touched you in that way, not since the first time. Have you not forgiven me?"

The next morning, Clove and Brutus left. Peeta watched them set out, gritting his teeth but unable to do anything about it without risking the wrath of Caesar.

* * *

"Are there bears in these parts?" Brutus asked Clove.

"Yes, many," Clove said. "Wolves, too."

He and Clove had spent a few days lolling about, not feeling up to anything. On occasion, Brutus would see the slave Katniss flitting about, but she was making sure to keep at a distance from him, staying mostly in the garden or the stables. Well, no matter, Brutus thought. He would have her, in the end. He had time; Peeta would be detained long in Rome.

Once or twice, he had asked Clove to send Katniss to his bed, but she always put him off. She told him she did not wish to incur Peeta's wrath, which only inflamed Brutus's desire.

* * *

Katniss was in the stall with the Master's chestnut-colored horse, Hob. The stall had the slightly sweet aroma of fresh hay. Katniss could see dust falling in the strips of light that shone from a high window. It was warm and cozy. And it reminded her of the Master, who she hoped would return soon.

She did not hear the man, Brutus, enter the stable. He was only a few feet from her when a sound made her whirl around. He stretched out a hand. She looked at it. She was used to seeing the Master's hands, which were large and strong, as rough and calloused as those of his field slaves, his nails trimmed short. This man's hands were not like that. The fingernails were long and looked like they might scratch.

She raised her eyes and looked at this man's face. His eyebrows were wild and curled. He was standing close enough that she could see the pores in his large nose. "Ah," the man said, breathing her in. He took his pointer finger and waved it in front of Katniss's face and at first she thought she might scream but instead he ran his finger underneath Hob's lip and across the gum line.

"She likes this," Brutus said, and Katniss could tell that he was right. The mare flared her lips, then came forward a few steps and nosed Brutus's shoulder.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Brutus lunged forward and grabbed Katniss by the hips. Repulsed, Katniss pushed against his arms and tried to break free, but he only strengthened his hold. She whimpered. Her legs began to give way, but even as she sank to the ground, he did not loosen his hold. She felt him lay a heavy hand on the back of her neck, and yelped.

"Katniss!" the old slave said, the one Clove told him had been Peeta's nursemaid. There she was, standing in the stall, staring at the three: the horse, Brutus, and Katniss. "The Master has arrived. Help me draw the water for his bath."

Brutus was still breathing heavily but he reluctantly let go of Katniss. She, sniffling and trembling, got to her feet, following close behind Mags as the old woman left the stable. As they headed to the kitchen, Katniss caught a quick glimpse of the Master, standing in the portico, being embraced by his wife. He was still in his rumpled travel clothes, and his eyes looked weary.


	9. WARNINGS

TWO DAYS EARLIER: ROME

All anyone needed to know about Peeta was that he was a stoic. He managed to stay out of trouble by letting his wife bask in attention. He allowed her her sexual partners, even on occasion stood chatting with them during banquets.

The night Brutus and Clove left Rome, he was attending a banquet Caesar himself was throwing in his palazzo at the top of the Palatine Hill.

The path to the villa led through a promenade lined with statues of Jupiter wielding a thunderbolt. There were a few Senators floating about, dressed as Roman centurions. It was a grand diversion to pretend to be one, dressing in rough tunics of lamb's wool and leather sandals, and hefting a few make-believe weapons: a sword, a bow-and-arrow, a javelin, a shield, a dagger.

Did Roman centurions actually use daggers, Peeta wondered. He saw a few other guests dressed -- amusingly, Peeta thought -- as gladiators, with clinking leg shackles.

The first floor of Caesar's palazzo was a series of large rooms ringing a wide courtyard, from which emanated the fragrance of sandalwood and jasmine. Torches lit the rooms with a vivid orange glow.

Peeta lingered at the edges of the rooms, getting progressively more drunk.

A young slave was playing the lyre in the center of a small courtyard. She was probably from an African province, judging from the color of her skin. Her voice was lovely. Peeta paused to listen.

"Peeta!" said a voice, very close. Peeta turned. It was Proximo, who he'd just seen at the baths, a few days earlier. Remembering their topic of conversation, he returned Proximo's greeting with moderate enthusiasm. "Have you spoken to Caesar?"

Peeta shook his head.

"Ah!" Proximo said, taking note of Peeta's ruddy cheeks. "You are enjoying yourself. I should leave politics out of tonight's conversation."

Peeta said, "Enjoying myself? I am alone, as you can see."

"Yes," Proximo said. "But why are you alone?"

"My wife -- "

"Do you see that woman there, with the dark hair and even darker eyes? She has been following you."

Peeta cast a quick glance over his shoulder. "Oh, that? She is my wife's niece. I think not."

Proximo hid a smile. He and Peeta proceeded onward, through a throng of people who were so inebriated they had begun pairing, quite openly, to the delight and raucous encouragement of most of the onlookers. Peeta, however, kept his eyes lowered. He was not to be tempted. Not tonight.

Farther on in the palazzo, they saw a beautiful young woman with a mass of red hair sitting with her feet in the lap of a handsome slave wearing nothing but a loincloth and leg tassels. With a start, Peeta recognized the woman as Proximo's much younger wife, Annia. Peeta raised an eyebrow and glanced at Proximo. "Annia has a lover?" he inquired. Proximo looked at the young man. "He is VERY handsome. He is from Sicily. Swims like a fish. WE enjoy him."

Peeta gave a dry chuckle.

"Your wife is much in the company of Senator Brutus of late," Proximo said. "Do you encourage their friendship?"

"I trust my wife," Peeta said. "I let her choose her friends."

"Brutus is a force," Proximo said. "Many fear him. He is close to Caesar, they say."

"Perhaps he is," Peeta said.

"His preference is for children," Proximo said. "Does your wife share that?"

Peeta's face darkened. "No," he said.

"Pardon me," Proximo said. "I did not mean to offend."

Peeta shook his head and began to back away, as if impatient to enter a throng of people heading to a room where, it was whispered, a woman with teeth sharpened to points was swallowing swords. "Why do you waste your time here, Peeta? When your thoughts are clearly so far away," Proximo said.

"I am here at the command of Caesar," Peeta said.

"You should away," Proximo said, shaking his head. "Brutus is a force. He whispers against you."

* * *

As Mags and Katniss walked to the kitchen, Mags cast Katniss a sidelong glance. "Stop sniveling," she ordered the girl. "And wipe your face." Katniss picked up the hem of her tunic and gave her cheeks a few hasty swipes. Then Mags said, "That happens to us all, girl. But the Master left instructions that your virginity was to be preserved. For he favors you -- though why he should, I know not. Perhaps he means to sell you for a fortune."

Katniss listened with awe. She did not think the Master favored her; rather, he favored Lavinia, who occasionally shared his bed. But she dared not argue with Mags, who she feared.

"Now," Mags said, hands on her hips. "I shall inform the Master. But can he -- ought he -- kick a Roman Senator out of the villa? In the meantime, you foolish girl. Did you not know he had his eyes on you? Why tempt fate by going to the stables? Do not pretend you do not know what men are about, you who grew up in the back alleys of Rome! From now on, you will stay close by me."

Since Katniss was still gawking at her, Mags gave her a sharp slap. It made Katniss's ears ring. She stared at Mags with a hand to her cheek, her mouth open. "We shall draw the water for the Master's bath. He is accustomed to my touch. Watch as I do. If he does not object, that shall be your duty from now on."

Mags shook her head sorrowfully, as if she could already see the dark clouds coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have NO idea what I'm doing with this story, but anyhoo. Maybe I'm channeling that long-ago HBO series Rome? Anyone else watch that?


	10. DESIRE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More machinations . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katniss POV

_There are monsters here_ , Katniss was thinking, as she followed Mags. Where had she heard that from? From her father? No, her Master had said it. He was a wise man, a good man. Katniss loved to be near him, as much as she could, though before this she had never been permitted in his private rooms.

Mags had been his nursemaid. She had seen all of him, had watched as he turned from skinny boy to man. She usually drew his bath alone. But today, she had bade Katniss accompany her. Katniss wished she did not have to appear before the Master in such a state, with tear-stained cheeks, her tunic hastily pulled down.

Brutus's groping hands had pulled her tunic to her hips. At the memory of what had recently unfolded in the stable, she flushed, and would have burst out weeping. But here they were at last, in front of the door to the Master's -- and Mistress's -- rooms.

She and Mags stood uncertainly outside for a few moments, while voices continued within: Clove and the Master were speaking. Whether the voices were raised in anger or happiness, it was hard to say, the heavy door was oakwood. Not much sound penetrated, usually. This was the only reason Katniss knew there was high emotion between the two speakers.

Then, the door was pulled open. Katniss hastily lowered her head. "What is she here?" Clove said, to Mags.

"She is assisting me with the Master's bath, Mistress," Mags said, in a subdued voice.

There was a rather pointed silence. Then Clove gave a dry laugh. She turned her head, to somewhere behind her. "Peeta! Your slave is here."

Peeta made a muffled reply. Clove walked out, passing between Katniss and Mags. Katniss followed Mags over the threshhold. Her heart began beating painfully loud. She wondered if it were loud enough for the Master to hear. She wondered what the Master was thinking as he looked at her.

But there was only silence. When Katniss raised her eyes, she saw that the large, sumptuous room was empty. A door at the far end, however, was open.

"There is the bath," Mags said softly. "We will give him a few moments. He will get into the warmed water and then we -- "

Katniss tried to keep her head lowered, but she had glimpsed, very briefly, the vivid murals on the walls depicting verdant fields and vibrant orange and lemon trees. Everything that the Master loved so much seemed to have been painted on the walls.

The bed was in an alcove. Katniss flushed, seeing it. The sheets were rumpled. But the Master had just arrived, so he had not been sharing the bed with his wife. Brutus . . .

Again, Katniss had to struggle to tether her thoughts. Above the alcove were written . . . something. Katniss could not read. She had tried to learn, but had little time. Seeing the words, however, she made a quick determination that she _would_ learn, as soon as she could. There were a few slaves who could read. She would ask them to teach her. For she wished to share in the Master's joy, and surely those words were a part of it.

* * *

Peeta discarded his tunic and sank into the water. He relished the solitude. He knew Clove would return, after speaking to Brutus. Peeta could not quell his suspicions of the Senator. Why was he here? Why did he not repair to his own estate, to oversee his own family's lands? He planted wheat, if Peeta remembered rightly. Vast fields. Fields with no master. Well, Peeta would go about his rounds and leave Clove to entertain the Senator.

Peeta bit his lip. He did not much enjoy the feeling of Mag's dry, papery hands over his body, she had long passed the age of being of any physical use, but she was determined to make the attempt to wet his hair, to run water down the back of his ears, his neck and chest. As if he were a child! But he would always be that, to her.

* * *

In the dimness of the bath, Katniss was careful to keep her eyes on her feet. A scented warmth rose from the pool of water in the center of the room. Mags walked surely, swiftly, more swiftly than Katniss had ever seen her move.

Then, Katniss felt Mags come to a stop, and lifted her eyes. She saw the Master -- bare and beautiful, eyes closed, face peaceful, head resting back against the lip of the pool -- and she stumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this little story, which I began just before Thanksgiving, full of hope. Still don't know what I'm doing, but fa-la-la-la-la! Amazed I'm still at it.


	11. DESIRE II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did not include this in the scene, but Katniss and Mags were just sitting there when they saw Peeta was asleep. Letting him rest. Letting Katniss look her fill. LOL LOL LOL They were quiet, until finally Mags nudged Katniss to go and get him out of the bath, which was cooling.
> 
> And, my goodness, the poetry of desire! But those Romans, who were expert at . . . desire . . . were always writing poetry.

Peeta drifted to sleep in the bath, almost as soon as he rested his head back on the pool's lip. He dreamt of wheat, and harvests, and birds and seasons. He came to himself when he felt a soft, hesitant touch on his shoulder. He looked up into silver eyes. He blinked, confused. "Master!" Katniss said, her voice full of apology. "The water is cold. Mags says you should get out now. I did not want to wake you, but she said I must." Only a few inches separated their faces. She had lowered her voice; she was almost whispering.

For a moment, Peeta froze. In his head came the words to an old song, sung by his father's favorite minstrel:

_I have walked toward Venus_

_As she sank behind a dark hill._

_I have stepped over Luna_

_As she cast her silver gaze on my fields._

_The blue-light gleam of_

_An infinity of stars, all in her eyes._

Peeta sat up and turned his head. "Where is Mags?"

"I am here, Master," came the old woman's voice from the darkness. She was sitting in a corner, away from the tub. "I am resting but a moment. Besides, Katniss should learn."

Katniss held up a white towel but averted her eyes. "Mags!" Peeta called, peevishly. The old woman shuffled forward reluctantly. "All right, all right," she said. "I am here." She took the cloth from Katniss and held it up. Only then did he rise from the tub. As he emerged from the water, he shivered, though the room was warm.

"Shall I -- comb your hair, Master?" Katniss whispered, next to him.

"Here is the comb," Mags said, without waiting for Peeta to answer. "And be sure you do not tug, or I shall thrash you."

Hesitantly, Katniss took the comb. Peeta went to a bench by the bath's edge. There was a heating brazier next to it.

"I shall leave you now, Master," Mags said.

"No!" Peeta said, vehemently. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Katniss. He could not -- would not -- look at her.

* * *

That night, with Clove off entertaining Brutus, doing the gods knew what, Peeta summoned his slave, Lavinia. When she arrived, he saw desire flare in her eyes, which pleased him, for he enjoyed himself more when the pleasure was mutual.

Lavinia was young, and beautiful, with milky skin and a profusion of curly hair that hung almost to her waist. Peeta had taken her when she was 18, and she was now 20. They lay together, and Clove did not return.

When sated, he sent Lavinia away, and his thoughts wandered again to Katniss. She was fifteen years old, just entering womanhood, but already in the height of her loveliness. Usually slave women were summoned to the Master's private quarters, ordered to unlace their tunics, made to undo their braids. Other Masters would undress their slaves in brutal haste, not minding ripped clothes and bruises.

Peeta did not sleep with his slaves very often, for he was a man of simple tastes. None of the slaves he took ever complained, but he did not wish to do that to Katniss, whose spirit, he sensed, was uncommonly pure. "She will break, if I take her," Peeta thought.

That night, Katniss moved through the villa with the silence of a cat. She stole to the courtyard just beyond the Master's rooms. She knew Lavinia was with him. Her face held a look of childlike cunning. The Master would have seen that same look many times before, on the faces of women who desired him. He would have been familiar with it.


	12. THE NEXT DAY

When Peeta roused himself, finally, and left his room, it was almost midday. Brutus and Clove were seated at a table on the wide verandah facing the lake. They eyed him curiously.

"This is well beyond your usual time to get up, Peeta," Clove said, shaking her head and giving him a sardonic smile. "Was she to your liking?"

Peeta ignored his wife and remained silent. He sat.

"Brutus and I were discussing the estate," Clove said.

"More specifically, whether or not you have Christians here," Brutus said.

"We have none," Peeta said, helping himself to some grapes from an enormous bowl of fruit that had been set in the middle of the table.

"How fortunate!" Brutus said. "They are difficult to uproot, once established. They grow like weeds, and they are willing to die rather than renounce their beliefs."

"Christians," Peeta said, rolling the word around on his tongue for a few moments. "The followers of that man, who was crucified in -- was it Jerusalem? The one who called himself the 'Son of God'?"

"The very same," Brutus said.

"We have no trouble of that kind here," Peeta said.

"Well," Brutus said, leaning back. "They are the vilest scum. They preach One God to replace our pantheon. And one wife to each man."

"Can such monsters really exist?" Clove burst out.

"Apparently, they do," Brutus said, turning to Clove. "And they win many converts among the poorest of the poor."

"In my experience," Clove said, "the poor -- the slaves, for instance -- can weave a grievance from the slightest of causes."

"And you have a vast number of workers here," Brutus said. "There must be grievances -- even if just a handful."

Peeta looked intently at Brutus, then at his wife. "I strive to treat my workers with respect. They are people, after all. If well treated, they will work harder. It is a benefit to all."

"Clove has taken me on a tour," Brutus said. "It is quite admirable. So clean."

"The slaves have access to their own source of water, and I insist on closed-in drains in the slave quarters. It keeps my workers healthy."

"And you have never had illness here?"

"No, never," Peeta said.

"I have seen your temple to Venus, also," Brutus said. "It is quite lovely."

The song came into Peeta's head at that moment, and with it the memory of Katniss's eyes as she had roused him from the bath.

_I have stepped over Luna_

_As she cast her silver gaze on my fields.  
_


	13. A SURPRISING DEVELOPMENT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this very fast and ended up surprising -- myself!

"Luxury is wasteful," Brutus remarked, at which Clove raised her eyebrows. "To treat slaves as humans, that is the greatest luxury of all."

Peeta's face was hard. "Hardship can reduce productivity. In my experience, there is a balance to be struck. With better conditions, slaves produce more."

"Interesting," Brutus said. "It is quite evident you care for your slaves. But there is no room in estate management for hearts. Not hearts that can be broken, anyway. I do not expect affection from my people. In fact, I rather enjoy that they hate me."

"But flagrant displays of wealth can sit badly," Peeta said.

Brutus and Peeta looked at each other in mutual scorn, neither wishing to give an inch.

Clove hitched up the corners of her mouth in a false smile. She would never, ever show weakness. Even though the conversation disturbed her greatly. She saw now that Brutus had made himself a rival of Peeta's. And she knew which of the two of them would win. It did not matter whether he used blackmail or bullying. He would win. "Shall we continue our tour of the estate? You have not yet seen where we keep our wine."

This time, Peeta agreed to go with them. The day was warm and beautiful; one could hear the bees buzzing among the trees. Yet Peeta felt the warmth was unnatural: it was the kind of warmth that usually preceded a thunderstorm. One of Peeta's overseers, Romulus, accompanied them.

The wine was kept in a cool cave, burrowed into the side of a low hill. There was a massive oak door, fitted with two great, iron locks and a heavy bar that usually took two men to open. Peeta and Romulus lifted the bar together. The four then stepped inside.

Peeta heard, in the distance, a woman scream, "Back!" And then again, "Back!"

He heard Brutus say, "Damn you!"

Peeta turned to Romulus, but that man was staring down in silent horror at the front of his tunic, from the center of which a deep red stain was spreading. After a moment, the overseer fell face forward and lay still.

"Clove!" Peeta cried, thinking to protect her. Something -- a stone? -- hit him on the side of his head, and he staggered. A bolt of excruciating pain shot through him and he sank to his knees. The blood began to run into his eyes. Peeta heard the heavy oak door fall shut, and instantly he was surrounded by a deep and penetrating cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I read too much Edgar Allan Poe.
> 
> I had to re-read from the very beginning to make sure I wasn't missing a stray detail. In Chapter 10, Katniss muses about something Peeta told her: "There are monsters here." How very ironic! Peeta forgot his own warning. Who is going to protect Katniss now?


	14. TREACHERY

Katniss and Mags were sitting in the kitchen, a large basket of unshelled peas between Katniss's legs, when they saw Lavinia running towards them, tears streaking her cheeks.

"Oh, woe!" she screamed, before falling into Mags's astonished arms. "Hide me! Help me!"

Mags held her grudgingly and said, "What in Jupiter's name has happened to you, woman? Stop squealing!"

"They have murdered -- they have murdered -- " and then Lavinia could not speak. She wailed.

Mags turned white. Katniss stood, the basket up-ended on the floor.

"Where is the Master?" Mags said, but her voice was more like a moan.

Katniss was running. Barefoot and running. She had heard Clove and Brutus talking, early that morning, before the Master was up. She had not understood. She heard Brutus say, "I have less noble goals." That had made her shiver. Clove had responded, "True." And that was all. There was a long silence. But it had made the hair on the back of Katniss's neck stand. Whatever the Mistress and Brutus were discussing, it did not sound good.

Oh Jupiter, oh Mercury, oh all the gods, give wings to her feet! Where should she head? She first turned towards the Master's private rooms, but then remembered something she'd heard earlier, that Romulus, the overseer, had been told to meet the Master at the wine cave. So she changed direction and flew towards the hill. She was almost there, when she saw, just over a rise, Brutus and Clove, deep in conversation. Brutus held a dagger, and Katniss saw the dagger was bloody. She dropped to the ground. Fortunately, a low hedge nearby provided her with something to crouch behind.

"Well, that was not too difficult, eh?" Brutus said.

There was no answer from Clove. Or was that a sob?

"Cease your mewling!" Brutus said. There was a sound, as of a slap. Then, the Mistress gasped. Instantly, there was silence.

Katniss clutched her mouth with one hand. She wanted to retch.

"Where does he store his silver? His gold? Take me there now!" Brutus said.

Katniss listened as their steps moved further and further away. After long moments, she peeked over the hedge and saw that the door to the wine cave was shut. _Master_ , she thought, _Please do not be dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt this chapter viscerally. Sorry, it is short.


	15. THE WINE CAVE

Katniss stared at the heavy oak door. She knew at once she would need help to move it. But she didn't want to leave the spot, either. Somehow, she knew her Master was there, in the cave. She'd seen the blood on Brutus's knife. It was probably the Master's. The Master was probably dying.

She wept. She hoped Pluto, king of the underworld, would not make him suffer so much. He had been the gentlest, kindest man she had ever known.

She could hear screams in the distance, and knew that Brutus's men were probably raiding the slave quarters for women. She thought of Mags -- they would leave Mags alone, but eventually they would kill her. After a few moments, she made a decision. She would not leave her Master. She could not save him, but perhaps she could die with him. She moved slowly, looking this way and that, making sure none of Brutus's men were about, and finally crept up to the door to the cave. She gave it a push, but it was too heavy; it did not budge. She gave it another push. And then she heard, very faint, a voice crying, "Help me!"

It was him! Her eyes widened and she whimpered.

"Master!" she cried, not caring any longer if anyone heard her. "Master! It is I, Katniss!"

The voice behind the door seemed to gather in strength. "Katniss? You should leave."

"No, Master! Never! I will get you out of here!" she said.

There was no reply.

She looked down at the heavy iron bar that kept the door in place, and at the complicated, heavy locks that held the bar to the latch at the end. The door would have to be broken through, and by the time she found someone to help her, the Master would be dead.

She looked down the narrow road that led from the wine cave to the main villa, and saw a figure, coming steadily closer. Fear gripped her, but she did not move. That figure was followed by another, and another. Soon, there were half a dozen figures walking towards her. If they were Brutus's men, she would be dead, for they had already seen her. She prepared herself to run, but she could not leave the Master. The men began to run, and now she began to recognize them; they were Peeta's slaves.

The slave who reached her first was a tall, young man. "Are you hurt?" he asked Katniss.

She shook her head. "The Master is in there," she said, indicating the cave. "Brutus hurt him."

The slave's eyes darkened. Others came up. Last came a young girl. Rue! Katniss could have fainted from relief. The girls clutched each other. "Rue! What is happening? Have you seen Brutus? Where is he?"

"I have not seen Br -- HIM," Rue said, shaking like a leaf. "But I can HEAR what his men are doing in the slave house." She began to weep. "I followed the men because I didn't want to be with the other women. Lavinia -- " Again she sobbed.

"Is Mags all right? Where is Mags?" Rue shook her head.

A deep jolt of pain shot through Katniss's chest. Oh no, no, not Mags! But she couldn't give in to her grief right then, since the Master was still trapped inside the wine cave, and he was probably dying.

By this time, Peeta's slaves had reached a consensus. "We're going to have to ram it," said one of the men. "Or chop it down. But we have no weapons."

"Don't you have any axes?" Katniss asked.

"We do," said another man.

"Where'd you keep them?"

"In the shed by the granary."

"Then hurry!" Katniss shouted.

The man stared, not being used to this quiet girl raising her voice. But then he nodded and began to lope off. Two other slaves followed him. Katniss and Rue sank to the ground.

Meanwhile, the slaves who were left examined the door closely, examined the earth around it, examined the hillside, discussed piling wood in front of it and burning the door down . . .

And here were the others, back from the granary, not only with axes but with plows, sickles -- anything that might be used to as a defense should Brutus and his men accost them.

Katniss put her mouth to the door. "Master! Help is coming!" Silence. "Master! Move away from the door! We are going to break it down." Again, nothing but silence. Katniss's heart was beating very fast.

She shook her head sorrowfully at the men. They began to hack at the wood.

After an hour, during which the men had taken turns, there was a splinter. A mere splinter. But air was rushing into the cave. Soon, the splinter grew wide enough to allow someone to peer in. "I see him!" the slave cried. And they all re-doubled their efforts.

When the hole was a few feet wide, Katniss slipped inside. She planned to pull the Master away from the door, for the splintering wood might wound him. She found Romulus first, face down on the ground. At first, she thought it was the Master, but when she lifted his face, she saw it was the overseer, and he was quite dead, his eyes open and staring. She looked desperately around and then she found Peeta. He was laid out several feet away, his face twisted to one side, his eyes closed. She rushed to him and tried to lift him, but he was too heavy. "Master! Master!" she cried, shaking his shoulder. She could feel the blood seeping warm through his shirt. Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered, and he groaned.

Without wasting any time, Katniss grabbed him by both arms and heaved with all her might. She was able to drag him a few feet away from the door. Then she squatted and stared at him. More light was coming through the door, and she saw there was a long streak of blood down the Master's left cheek. Gently, she brushed the hair off his forehead, searching for the source of the wound. There was a gash on one side of his head, just above his ear.

"He's alive!" she shouted to the men outside, but she doubted anyone heard her, the sound of the door splintering was deafening.

"Water," Peeta groaned.

She heard a great crack, and the door swung crazily off its hinges. Daylight came flooding in.

Katniss saw a large stone by Peeta's feet. She looked closer at it. There was blood smeared on one side. A great anger welled in her chest.

Someone dropped to the ground next to her. Rue. She was on all fours, looking at The Master. "He's still alive? Will he be all right?" she whispered.

Katniss shook her head, unable to speak. The Master was still alive, but Katniss didn't know if he would be all right, there was so much blood coming from the head wound. She felt her tears start to fall, and this time it was she who needed holding.

"Fire!" one of the slaves standing at the cave entrance shouted.

Katniss raised her head. Through the shattered door, now gaping wide open, she saw smoke smudging the blue sky.

Someone said, horror and fear clotting his voice, "Brutus's men must have set fire to the villa."


End file.
